Turning Point: Cancer surgery prompts her to put family first and work less

Regina Perry attracted attention when she rode her bike 12 miles to and from her chemotherapy sessions. (Pioneer Press: John Doman)

Regina Perry didn't think it was so amazing to ride her bicycle to and from chemotherapy treatments last year, but others certainly were impressed with her fortitude.

"The volunteer at the desk at the hospital said, 'I've never heard of that before,' " said Perry, 44, of Minneapolis. "And my oncologist says I'm his star patient."

For Perry -- a divorced mom with three children, ages 7, 8 and 10 -- it just made sense.

"The first time I had chemotherapy, I had a friend drive me, because I wasn't sure what to expect," Perry said. "But then I decided I should ride my bike to help get the chemotherapy drugs flowing through my body faster."

Perry's ride with cancer started with a trip to the emergency room at the University of Minnesota Medical Center, Fairview, on March 24, 2012.

"I thought I had appendicitis," Perry said. "At the beginning of the week, I felt crampy. By Sunday, I thought, 'OW, this really hurts.' I went to the ER early on Monday morning. I told them that I thought it was my appendix, but they said, 'Usually, the pain is more severe than that.' I said, 'Well, it did keep me up all night.' They did a CAT scan and said my appendix was swollen. They also found out an aneurysm in my hepatic artery (an artery that supplies blood to the liver, stomach and pancreas) that would have to be dealt with later.

"They told me, 'We want to get that appendix out now.' I was told it would be a 45-minute laparoscopic procedure. I said, 'OK, no problem.' I was not upset. I was joking around and texting friends.

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"I woke up at 10 that night after the operation. As I was coming to, the resident leaned over and said, 'You didn't have appendicitis, you had cancer.' I started gasping for breath. It felt like I had suddenly fallen down the rabbit hole."

Her procedure had gone from being a minor invasive one to major surgery after the doctor discovered a malignant tumor on her appendix -- this was what had caused the cramping.

Because the tumor was suspected to be metastatic colon cancer, the surgeon also removed 9 inches of Perry's large intestine, 3 inches of the small intestine and about 28 lymph nodes.

"The surgeon made an awesome decision," Perry said. "My time as a cancer victim was vanishingly small. I didn't know I had cancer until it was all gone."

A follow-up with an oncologist determined the next step: chemotherapy.

At first, Perry felt overwhelmed.

"I thought, 'Where am I? How did this happen?' Perry said. "I shouldn't have gotten cancer -- I don't have the family history, I don't have the lifestyle. The thought of my children growing up without a mother brought me to wrenching tears. But it was only overwhelming for a short time. Then, you have to move on and make it work."

She moved on by "hitting chemo hard" and stepping up her already extremely healthy lifestyle. She has always cooked from scratch. She also shops at Whole Foods and co-ops, and serves organic dairy products.

Although she still will indulge in a glass of wine with her girlfriends or potato chips with her kids, Perry makes sure to consume food and drink with cancer-fighting powers.

"I drink 14 ounces of raw beet juice daily, three to five cups of green tea, two cups of raspberries -- and also turkey tail mushroom supplements and turmeric oil capsules," Perry said. "It has been 18 months of being cancer-free."

In a way, Perry feels her cancer was a gift, because it led to the discovery and treatment of her aneurysm.

"I was referred to a vascular specialist, who diagnosed me as a 'highly probable Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome Type 4' (a connective tissue disorder)," Perry said. "When I asked him how they treat it, he said, 'Well, it usually presents in mortality. The life expectancy of someone with this syndrome is 48. Eighty percent of people with this condition have a severe incident, an aneurysm that bursts, and they die. But you don't have to worry, we took care of the aneurysm that could have killed you, and now you're being monitored.'

"I felt like I got off a bus a block before it exploded," Perry said. "I feel like I've been cheating death my whole life. Having cancer saved my life. Because, as a healthy person, I would have not gotten a CAT scan. Without the CAT scan, they would not have found my aneurysm. Over time, it would have gotten bigger and bigger, until it burst."

Dealing with cancer and chemotherapy in 2012 and the aneurysm and syndrome in 2013 has affected how Perry lives.

"I think more about death than any 44-year-old should," Perry said. "I also think more about my day-to-day happiness. If every day is good and happy and relaxed, that's all I care about. A bucket list? After you look death in the face, see if you still want to go to that beach in Thailand.

"For me, I think more about what is an appropriate level of work," said Perry, a former designer and visual merchandiser who now works part-time at Arhaus, a furniture store at the Galleria in Edina.

"I would rather make a few thousand less a month and be home when my kids get home from school. I also buy and hold on to less stuff. Because, after I'm gone, I don't want my kids to have to pick through all this stuff.

"My bucket list now is made up of stress-free days where I don't yell at my kids, a day that unfolds organically, a day where I'm with my kids in an atmosphere of calm and happiness and security."